


Desperately Seeking Someone

by blue_pointer



Series: Only in Manhattan [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Ghostbusters (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Comedy, Crack, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, New York City, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Spoilers, Stucky flavour, Thor? - Freeform, post-Ghostbusters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7828252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a forced vacation from Bucky Watch in Wakanda, Steve runs into Thor(?) on the New York City subway.<br/>Then he meets some new friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperately Seeking Someone

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I really need to apologize to my readers for writing this.  
> Please don't unfollow me.
> 
> Warning: If you haven't seen the new Ghostbusters, this will probably make no sense to you.

He loved being back. He hated being back. For Steve Rogers, New York was a city of ghosts. And the only one he longed for, the only one he wanted to see, wasn’t a ghost anymore. But he may as well have been.

T’Challa had urged him to leave Wakanda, even for a day or two. “You are suffocating inside your own mind here, Captain,” he’d said. “You need to return to the world, to remember what it was like to be alive, if even for few hours. Go somewhere with fond memories. Somewhere you love so much that it resides deep in your heart even when you are away. Then--only then--if you must return, bring that spark back with you.”

Of course, it had taken more than one of the king’s mystic pep talks to pry Steve away from Bucky’s living corpse. When Sam had finally convinced him to take time off from what he called “the mope patrol,” there was only one place Steve could have gone. As nice as his apartment in DC had been for a while, New York would always be home. No, not Avengers Tower (even before that was off-limits). Brooklyn.

Steve was standing right between the two doors, subtly experimenting with his ability to subway-surf (could he still do it after 80 years?), not holding to any of the safety rails or loops. He was careful to avoid jostling anyone around him--even at 3 in the afternoon the 4 train out of Manhattan was crowded--or accidentally hitting anyone with his large drawing pad.

At Grand Central, Steve tucked in his elbows for the usual sardine-shuffle of people--at least 30 in for 30 out--and helped an elderly woman grab the last empty seat by paternal-shame-glaring a knuckle-scraper out of it. The woman made eye contact with him--so rare these days--and Steve smiled politely. No one had recognized him yet today, which Steve counted as a small victory.

“Please stand clear da closin’ doors.” All but the conductor’s accent seemed to have been obscured by the PA, but Steve knew what he’d said, because it was what he’d said all the way down from Central Park. The doors were just closing when a figure thrust itself into the gap, causing the doors to hiccup, and the alarm to sound again. Steve hurried to help the person in, because it was dangerous to jam the doors open at the last minute. He’d seen youtubes of people losing their purses (or worse) that way. He wished Clint would stop sending him those links. Steve always clicked on them, even though he knew better by now.

“Thank you, Mr. Conductor,” the man said, pushing past Steve who was trying to hold the doors open with just enough strength to not break them. He was tall. Taller than Steve, nearly hitting his head on the top of the door as he squeezed in.

Steve turned and stared, so many thoughts going through his head at once. _...never seen him in modern clothes--thought his hair was always long--really need me to hold the door open for him?--riding the subway?--shoelaces are untied--keep forgetting how tall he is--but where’s the hammer?--no, where’s Bruce?--is something about to go down?--wait, there are no lenses in those frames…_

But his thoughts were interrupted by the same old lady he’d just helped get a seat. “Let go of the door, asshole!”

Steve blinked, having forgotten he was still holding onto the doors, preventing the train from taking off. He was embarrassed, and not just because he’d managed to make a sweet old lady cuss him out, but because the rest of the car seemed to feel the same way.

Backing away from the door, Steve glanced around for his friend. This was going to be awkward. He and Tony had made such a mess of things in their absence. Funny, Steve had never pictured this conversation going down on the train. Of course, he wasn’t hard to find. Steve spied him standing near the door between cars, reading a wall ad about plastic surgery with deep concentration.

Steve had practiced so many ways to start this conversation. Oddly, when he drew near, the first thing that came out of his mouth was, “You’re back!” As anxious as Steve was about filling him in on everything that had happened, he realized he was relieved to see Thor again. Somehow, the weight of the world wasn’t as heavy on his shoulders with a deity around to lend a hand. Steve smiled up at the Asgardian, who was a good three inches taller than he was.

At first, Steve thought Thor hadn’t heard him, but then he turned from scrutinizing the sign, casting the same intense stare on Steve, who recoiled slightly. “My back?” Thor asked, reaching behind as though he expected to find something there. “Aw, no. Did they put another sign on?” He didn’t find anything by feel, so Thor began to spin around, futilely, trying to see--it seemed--his own back. “You know the last one said Kiss Me?” he paused to confide in Steve. “Only they spelled Kiss wrong--with a K after the C.”

To say Steve was puzzled would have been an understatement. “What?”

“Wait.” Thor smiled, and it wasn’t his usual smile. It was all handsomeness and no strength of character. All the same, it was slightly dazzling. “You’re joking me, right? Made you look!”

Steve was starting to get concerned. “Listen…” He’d been planning to tell Thor about what had happened, but the little voice in Steve’s head said to wait on that for a minute. “Why are you...dressed like that?” Steve asked him. Maybe Thor was investigating something. It might explain the glasses without glass if Asgardian Disguise 101 had failed a bit on the details.

“Why?” Thor seemed to consider this for a moment. “Well, I tried going on an audition once wearing the same as my headshot, but all of these cars crashed on Broadway, and everyone kept giving me phone numbers to call, only I don’t have a phone.”

Steve grinned a little, thinking he might be following along for a moment. “Yeah, the joke’s on--”

“It’s underwater,” Thor added, utterly confounding him.

“Are you feelin’ okay?” Steve asked, because he just looked so damn serious. If this was a joke, Thor was telling it wrong.  

He actually reached to squeeze his own arm, when Steve asked. “I think so,” Thor said. “What do you think?” And he offered Steve his bicep so that he could have a go.

“No, that’s…” Steve was reaching for his phone, because something was wrong. Very wrong.

The train stopped at Seward Street, and suddenly the windows closest to them were showing a large work of graffiti. “That’s me,” Thor told Steve proudly. “I’m one of ‘em anyhow.” He pondered the work. “I liked the boobs better, though.” Thor held his hands out in front of his chest, either imagining that he had breasts or measuring the size of his imaginary breasts or…

Steve’s mind was reeling. As the train began to pull out of the station, he closed his eyes, gathering focus. He could deal with this. Steve decided to employ the strategy he’d used with Bucky, after many long nights discussing different kinds of memory loss and tactics for working with people suffering from memory loss with Sam. “Do you know my name?” Steve asked him.

“Sure!” Thor assured him. And Steve felt better for about two seconds. “You’re...that guy from the subway. Am I right?”

Steve took a deep, calming breath. “What’s _your_ name?”

“You mean you don’t recognize me?” Thor asked, striking a heroic pose, which was more familiar to Steve than anything he’d done so far.

Then the train pulled into Canal Street. “Sorry, subway guy,” Thor told him. “This is my stop. I missed it the last three times.” And he proceeded to get off the train.

Steve quickly did the same, but he didn’t try to talk to Thor again. Instead, he followed him up the stairs, keeping an eye on him in the crowd while desperately trying to dial his phone with his thumb. How did people do this so easily? Fortunately, Sam had pre-programmed all of Steve’s quick dial buttons to call the same phone number.

“Don’t tell me,” Sam’s voice was clear as a bell on the other end. “You’re ready to go back. It’s been one night, Ste--”

“We got a problem,” Steve told him. Sam knew that tone in his best friend’s voice.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to tell me to fly somewhere?”

“Listen, I’m south of Canal, heading west.”

“Please say you just found some amazing new Chinese restaurant.”

“I found Thor,” Steve said, grimly.

“Down there?”

“Yeah. And something’s happened. He’s got some kind of memory loss.”

“Shit.” Sam paused a beat. “That big green dude with him?”

Steve took a tense breath. “No.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I’ll keep you posted. Just get here. Soon as you can.”

Knowing this was as good as “over and out,” Sam stopped him from hanging up just yet. “Steve.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that thing you told me Bucky used to tell you instead of good-bye?”

“‘Don’t do anything stupid until I get back?’” Steve’s heart was raw. He’d forgotten how much tugging at it could still hurt.

“Yeah. That.” They hung up.

Steve found himself standing in front of what had been a fire station back in his day. It gave him the feeling of deja vu. He quickly glanced around, suspecting a trap. But the door was open, and the sounds coming from inside made him nostalgic not for his childhood, but for Tony’s workshop.

Cautiously, Steve peered in. Where had Thor gone? Inside, the place was huge, but not big enough to lose someone like him. “Hello?” Steve called out, knowing that banging-on-metal noise was being made by someone.

A head that wore glasses that were more like goggles and sported hair that seemed to defy gravity popped up from behind a workbench in the distance. The owner said nothing, just stared at him and lit a blowtorch. “Umm…” Steve really hoped he wasn’t going to have to fight another dame. He hated that. “I’m looking for someone?”

The distant face lit up with a mad grin. Suddenly she was flying at him on a rolling desk chair, the blowtorch still on, booted feet extended for better aerodynamics. Steve stepped to the side, and she stopped suddenly, having pulled a lever on the chair. “Me, too.” Her eyes, slightly magnified by the glasses, reminded Steve of that guy from _Who Framed Roger Rabbit?_ The mad grin turned lascivious. “What’s your type? I like em...” she slapped her thigh. “Solid.” She glanced at something in the vicinity of Steve’s elbow. “Or brilliant and petite. I like petite, too.”

“Holtzmann, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Steve nearly jumped. He hadn’t heard the other woman come up behind him. Now he understood the first woman’s addendum, though. The second gal was...petite.

“He’s not my friend,” the first woman replied without inflection. Her focus now was solely on the second woman, and her expression was that of a scientist observing a white rat running a maze.

“Anyhow…” Steve started to back away. The second woman looked perilously close to taking his elbow, and he wasn’t really into that with a woman he didn’t know. “The guy I’m lookin’ for--”

“You’re looking for a guy?” The first woman--Holtzmann? --asked quickly, her lips spreading in a too-wide smile.

“Holy moly, look at you!” A third woman rounded a corner from behind Holtzmann and approached, taking Steve in with something like awe. “He could be Kevin’s long lost brother!” she told the other two.

“You’re Kevin’s brother!?” the petite woman cried, realizing Steve’s fears and taking his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. “Oh god, your parents must be so beautiful!”

“But you said guy, right? Not brother?” Holtzmann asked Steve with a naughty wink.

“Erin, you’ve gotta stop doin’ that!” the third woman fussed at the second, attempting in vain to shoo her off Steve.

“Look, I don’t know who this Kevin is--” Steve began.

“You’re missing things!” Holtzmann had pushed her chair over to the fireman’s pole and was shouting at someone upstairs.

“--but I’m lookin’ for a friend of mine--”

“Told you he was looking for a guy!” Holtzmann bellowed from across the room, re-lighting her blowtorch in victory.

“Stop that!” A fourth woman scolded her, appearing from the far stairwell. “Turn that shit off right now, Holtz, before you set this beautiful historic building on fire.”

Steve was feeling overwhelmed. “Subway guy!” Thor called cheerfully from behind him. Steve turned to see him eating a sandwich as big as his head. He gestured at Steve while he chewed. “Ghostbusters, meet subway guy.”

“Kevin,” the second woman began with a tone of infinite patience.

“You found your guy!” Holtzmann declared with a manic smile, flinging her arms up, as her blowtorch had been taken away by the tall woman with large earrings.

“Yeah, he was in the subway,” Kevin told her.

“You were looking for Kevin?” Erin peered up at Steve from his elbow, her greenish-blue eyes full of disappointment.

The fourth woman, who seemed to be the only one of this group with sense, started toward Steve. “Please allow me to apologize for my friends--” And then she froze.

“Ohhhh!” She slapped a hand over her mouth and started to dance in place. “Ooo! Ohhh!” The way she was pointing at Steve made him sag a little. “It’s Captain America!” she shouted. “That’s Captain America!” Then she turned on her companions. “How you gonna have Captain America walk in here and not recognize him? What the hell is wrong with y’all?”

Steve had a sinking feeling, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe this would turn the tables on a rapidly deteriorating day.

Erin gasped. “I’ve always wanted to study you! Where’s your mighty shield?” She started to pat him down like he had it hidden in his jacket pocket.

“Erin, stop. We talked about this!”

“Do you know Captain Crunch?” Thor-who-was-called- Kevin wanted to know.

“Can you introduce me to Black Widow?” Steve started, because he didn’t even see Holtzmann cross the room, and suddenly she was right in his face.

“You know what?” Steve’s voice cut across the chaos. “This seems like a bad time.”

“Wait, Captain America!” the tall woman who’d recognized him ran to block Steve’s exit. “No one comes here unless they got a problem. The Ghostbusters are here to help!” Absurdly, she saluted him.

“Ghost busters?” Steve repeated, utterly baffled.

 


End file.
